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<nettime> A Microfesto(s)
Lismore on Thu, 8 Nov 2007 21:35:41 +0100 (CET)

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<nettime> A Microfesto(s)



 A Manifesto is an authority. A Microfesto is an apprentice.


 For new, innovative, subversive art forms to flourish, a politik must be
formed that is based on affiliation, but does not participate in a canon


 A Manifesto is complete. A Microfesto is obsolete.


To take a stance, is to ask for ridicule. Praise be to those that seek


A proverb is a utility of provisions.

To speak emphatically, or to speak as if we knew a truth, is to pursue a

 Rendering rhetorics : . .. . .. . . . . . ... . .. . . . NOTDONE


 As an identity, as a resource, as a walking mockery, I am incapable of
writing a Manifesto. I am not an authority, and thus I have no agency to
speak on any subject definitively.

 This situation enables me to speak in a broken tongue.


 The functional power of broken verse is equal to, if not greater than,
those that have definition.


 To corrupt a language that I am not an expert in is an attempt at hacking
language: reclaiming mistakes to benefit a cause of failure.

 We are living in a communication breakdown. In this system of incoherences
and misunderstandings, a new language can float to the surface (but not to
top) that aims to please itself. It can be self-referential, esoteric, and
obscure for the purposes of selfishness and complication.

 The "product" that this disruptive language can provide for itself can be
an amalgamation of irony, parody, and farce. These literary elements or ways
of communication can unfold into a jargon of desolation and rebellion.


 To format my claims in a manner such as this is an attempt at using the
tropes of our academic culture in order to ridicule our means of


 A Manifesto aims to convince. A Microfesto aims to converse.


 My aims of distancing my rhetorics from demonized informatics are the
result of my disloyalty towards an artistic medium in which i find myself
marginal, or at best found an annoyance.

 These separatists attitudes are aimed at the persons vested in homogenizing
the complex, and bringing definition to a variable format.


 Blankets are for hard winters, not for hard claims.

Lines can be drawn in the sands, but not in the grass.


 Insight is no longer virtuous.


 Quote Benjamin *here*.




 History is a consensual hallucination. (Why is it that I know how to spell
hallucination and not consensual?)


 If this were a Microfesto, it would be better crafted.


 Or else, if I had an agency to write a Microfesto, i would do so with the
proper acknowledgment of butchering a medium/literary style.




 At this point I am writing to fill up the page.


 You should not take the previous statement for granted. It is an attempt at
honesty, and to behold it as such is to recognize the ever-present anxiety
of an amateur.


 Twenty would be a good place to end a Microfesto.


 Motor cascades of bullet-breathing bees with wings made of pearls
descending from a blackened sky to prevent our enemies from reproducing.
Laser pointers aimed at power-point presentations. Sonic fire-hydrants
blasting in the heat wave where the shades of noir films gallop in to save
the sheep from the wolf in the canyon of the magi where Mr. Crimson rests
his laurels. Pictures of the what the planets look like when aligned, in a
grade school, outside of Minnesota, against a mountain, near a lake filled
with fish who can filter the fog through their nostrils.


 A Tim Drum. A Glass Bead. Praising Men. Dying in Venice. Other Modernists.


 More writings here to support a thesis yet given.

 [re : 113]

 Subject. Object. Form. Content.


 Na?ve. Hopeful.


 Picking up the pieces. 20 more songs of a paleofuture. Rocking into a
cybernetic slumber. Using buzz words. Following in a footstep, making sure
not to disturb the new snow more than it already has. Cautiously frolicking.

 // Poor grammar.

// Rewrite later.


 Towards a thesis ::

... Suggesting the possibility for critical noise to take precedence in an
academic environment. In accordance with the pursuit of open communication
ideologies, and hyper-threaded, multi-vocal representations, critical noise
can compile a category of topical commonalities that can shape the course of


 A cleansing of a pallet can provide a useful strategy for lowering
expectations(as a non-pejorative claim), reconsidering value, and
disorganizing rubrics of hierarchical knowledge systems.

 Since we have removed substance from our rhetorics and deprived them of
practical application then it seems appropriate that we should distance
ourselves as far as possible from the confines of our predetermined
acceptance of the canon.


 I will not attempt to defend myself. As I mentioned my agency has little to
do with my actions.


 "But for me, and perhaps for others like me, it seems that whats artificial
has become natural, and what's natural is now strange, or rather, it's not
that what's artificial has become natural; it's simply that what's natural
has changed."

 Fernando Pessoa. Book of Disquiet. Text #49


 We have lost the features of our futures.


 I often consider if the things I say are things that I know. But the
obviousness of the answer to this statement seems painfully mundane.


 I am aware of my severe hypocrisy. Modernists discourses are not a platform
for diversity. But faultiness, misguidedness, and amateurish behaviors can
be incorporated into, or at least inform, the dialects involved in the
pursuit of understanding the misnomer medium of NewMedia.


 Seven serpents in the sky, shredding symbols from science.

Phalanx. Fortune. Fissures. Fallacy.


 "A new media object is not something fixed once and for all, but something
that can exist in different, potentially infinite version. "

Lev Manovich. *Principles of New Media* in *Language of New Media*.


 The substance of a text can be derived from the absence of its words.


The substance of a text can be seen through the scope of history.


The scope of history will always be inaccessible.


The text of history is a scope of substance that will always be


hn tnxt of h s a scopn of substancn that wn a ways bn nnaccnssnb n.



 #151 is a symbolic gesture.


 I felt like there was more that I wanted to say here.


 The principles of the avant-garde have been co-opted into a mechanism of
custodial ownership. Soon one will be able to collect museums or
architecture, and likewise turn those into non-functional artificial relics
of commodity and decadence.


 In the alleyway, near Division and Damen, next to the bar in which I roost,
there is a permanent dampness 1/3 of the way to the spot where I take a leek
behind the dumpster. I only do this when the bathroom is occupied ? when the
late night drunk-eyed men cluster the back room next the their awaiting
stalls ? or else wen I've had to much to drink and I can't hold myself any
longer. The dampness remains there even if the day has been unusually dry. I
can't see that there is any particular or noticeable resource for this patch
of discolored pavement, but it never fails to dampen my shoes and I stumble
back to my perch on the far end of the bar, attempting to read through the
white noise, seeing if anyone would notice the young misanthrope in the


 Comedy, it seems, the the mechanism in which we redeem our undesirable


 A Penguin is in the desert (Don't ask me how he got there) diving his car,
and suddenly it breaks down. The Penguin is obviously distraught cause it is
amazingly hot outside and he doesn't know where the nearest town is. Luckily
he gets towed to a service station not far away. He asks the mechanic what
he thinks, and he tells the Penguin he isn't sure, although it might be the
engine. The mechanic suggests coming back in an hour or so to check in. At
this point the Penguin is dying from the heat, but he sees an ice cream
parlor across the street. The Penguin goes over into the nicely air
conditioned parlor and orders the biggest serving of vanilla ice cream that
the store has. After finishing, the refreshed penguin goes back over to the
service station to see about the status of his car. The mechanic says "Well,
it looks like you just blew a seal!" The Penguin replies, rubbing his face,
"Oh... No, sorry, I just had a bunch of ice cream."


 I love telling that joke. My friend from grade school told me that joke
with excellent vigor. He seemed so pleased that his joke had the right
amount of dirtiness, but an equal amount of wit. The story is my favorite
part really. Because when you think of it, how can a penguin drive a car?


 #12 was written shortly after a visit to the location behind the dumpster.
I corrected the poor grammar of its original scripture in order to make the
mood more convincing.


 A Direct quote from George Carthage O'Brien in an electronic letter sent
November 2nd 2007 ::

 "One way of appreciating what you've done is to be clearer about the way
language is working here. Formally, it's like you've constructed a gathering
(an installation) of mini-loops, which play backwards and forwards, with one
another but against one another. This isn't true of all of them, but there's
enough of a sense of polarity (true/false, theory/practice, yes/no) to
suggest a pattern. This is a recursive landscape, one with rivers and
mountains, so to speak ? that is, with two different kinds of phenomena
coexisting without really speaking to each other. In one way, this is the
most exciting feature of the whole work, as it suggests a landscape. The
landscape around Lismore! I'm only half-kidding about that. Landscapes are
teachers. And part of the recursive play is in alliteration, in listing, in
punning ('a-politcal-lypse' is an especially striking one) and so on. I
actually think you could do with more comedy, or with a lighter tone. Comedy
is the only anarchism we're allowed to get away with, so there's definitely
a place for it here. The freedom not to care. I don't really know why the
frolicking has to be cautious, unless this is an intentional contradiction
in terms, dictated by your recursive method. Frolicking usually means a lack
of caution, right? Though at the same time I must say I liked #20."

 No sections of this statement have been altered from its origin.


 One of the passwords for my online accounts in the 1337 version of my
former roommates cat.


 #57 has some issues that I wish to address here ::

 The idea that a manifesto, or a piece of literature, or that statements of
a certain definitive capacity, need to be substantiated through the
mechanisms of "defense" seems to be a by-product of Modernist agendas of war
and capital. Rhetorically speaking, art, or literature, or cultural
production(non-Adornian/cultural industry), does not need justification for
it to obtain value(non-capital). In #29, I present myself with a persona of
someone on guard.


 One draw back of our virtual culture is that I can't open up a dictionary
and use "n+7" methods to previous and future entries.

 // Buy Dictionary


 Refute Manovich quote *here*.


 Please forgive me.

I never meant to hurt you.


 Work towards a conlusion.



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